


Badinage

by hansu



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:18:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hansu/pseuds/hansu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whiterun is occupied. Balgruuf is slightly more disgruntled than usual. Ulfric begins to question his sanity while cornering a dragon in his own lair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Badinage

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how to continue this fic. This originally began from a pure crack prompt that was something like “Ulfric tries to court Balgruuf by occupying his city because he’s an idiot”. I don't have a beta so help would be greatly appreciated! :) Please let me know what you think of this and share your suggestions and I might get some ideas and continue!
> 
> Oh and to make things easier I’ve ignored the existence of Balgruuf’s creepy possessed kids and his brother. u_u;

Balgruuf huffed, gloom radiating from his person and draping over the walls of the room, and continued staring at the province map spread across the table, as if it would give him answers if he did it long enough. Strange and dangerous times were ahead for the sons and daughters of Skyrim. The Empire was ripping at the seams and the Thalmor sought to take their god from them… as if that hadn’t been enough whispers of a cause - a rebellion - had echoed among the people.

Skyrim was troubled. Aye, that much had been certain for a long time. The Great War and it’s consequences had taken their toll on the rugged regal land. Seemed that this era would see great changes within her borders - but civil war? Yesterday it had been but a shade in the borderlands. Now it was here, in his city - in Whiterun.  He glanced at the soldiers - one on each side of him.   
    
   "And so you have taken Dragonsreach, to start your war…“  
   "But my friend, you misunderstand, this is merely for you own protection. I have no hostile intentions.”  
   "You occupy my city, imprison me in my palace… You call this protection, Ulfric?“ He glared at the Jarl of Windhelm and his second.  
   "You are a true Nord Balgruuf, I have no doubts about your leadership, but I need to be assured that you are free of any potentially harmful influences.”   
   "…Harmful influences?“ the elder jarl frowned. ”…Avenicci? Irileth!?“ his most trusted were noticably not present, he hadn’t seen his brother either.        
   
   "Due to… certain reports, we had a reason to suspect certain figures of being involved in less than honorable activities that are a threat to you and to Skyrim.” Galmar stated with a smirk. Balgruuf shook his head in disbelief. Reports? From his city? Did the Gray-Manes have something to do with this? Old man Vignar especially had been vocal about expressing his disdain for the Empire’s surrender.    
   "The Legion will not just stand idly when Whiterun is illegally occupied, it will bring war to my people!“  
   "Well, how fortunate that you have allowed my men into your city then, friend, for we would defend you if such a thing was attempted. You wouldn’t want your people to be endangered would you?” Ulfric stated.  
  
Balgruuf ground his teeth. Bastard. How had he managed this? He had had help from the inside, there was no other way.  Had the Gray-Manes truly been willing to go this far, to betray their jarl? Did he deserve it? Balgruuf stood neck deep in murky waters, and he stood alone. There would be no words of advice from Avenicci, no insight from Irileth.   
  
He had no idea what Ulfric was up to. He had expected both Imperials and ‘Stormcloaks’, as Ulfric’s lot had named themselves, come courting for his favour after Ulfric had escaped imperial custody.  He knew very well how important his hold’s position was, but this was rash, even for Ulfric who had a magnificent resume of recent rash actions.    
  
Personally Balgruuf was still undecided on what to think about Torygg’s death. Ever cautious, he had deemed it best not to comment one way or another for the sake of his hold, and also because of his own conflict about this idea of independence.  
  
Security, prosperity, unity. This is what the Empire had always offered them. What it still promised to offer them. But the cost… to deny Talos, to deny the heart of the empire that once stood so proud… Was it better to be alive than proud? He would gladly face his own foes till death, but would he doom the people who depended on him, families, children, because of pride? Pride… and freedom and tradition, what the true sons of Skyrim so craved for. His heart weighed heavy in his chest.      
  
   "Would you by any chance be intending to elaborate my situation here, or do you only mean to admire your catch?“ The blond inquired sourly, growing tired of the silence.  
   "There will be a council.”  
   "I haven’t heard of such a thing I’m afraid.“  
   "Naturally. You have yet to call it.”  
   "Oh yes, of course! Must have slipped my mind!“ Balgruuf exclaimed irritably, glaring at the invaders. "And why would I want to call this council, exactly?” he demanded, crossing his arms.   
  
Ulfric prowled towards him, steps slow and meaningful, until the two jarls were nigh nose to nose. Like his father the son of Windhelm truly deserved the nickname Bear, and so, as much as he wanted to do it Balgruuf resisted the urge to punch him when he growled with dark finality;  
   "Because you will do as I tell you to do.“, and it  further annoyed him that this was the truth. He still did not know what his situation was in whole, having been woken in the early hours of the night by the intrusion of disguised soldiers and brought before the crafty son of a bitch, but like this he was very much at Ulfric’s mercy.  
  
   "When the day rises, you will tell that you have dispatched your steward, your housecarl, and your brother from the city, on whatever business, I do not care what. Then you will call upon a council of the jarls to resolve this 'murder’ nonsense, and kindly speak in my favour.”  
   "Yes and nobody will be suspicious because-“  
   "None is to know about our little visit. Thus far we are undetected.”   
  
Undetected.  _Undetected_. Inside Dragonsreach!? He felt sick. How was this possible?   
   "…How?“  
   "Now now, my friend, the details shall remain my little secret for the time being. But you should thank old Vignar, who was most concerned that his jarl might be under pressure to make some unfavourable decicions and came to me for help.”  
   "I suspected as much.“ The blond seethed quietly.      
  
   "For everyone’s better interests I have seen to that the guards in you palace are… of a correct disposition.”  
   "Fantastic.“ Balgruuf said in a pleasant sugary sweet tone, which did little to soften the dark ire in his glare. Ulfric raised an eyebrow and backed off slightly, turning to Galmar.  
  
A council, then. Ulfric wanted to clean the field. He wanted a conclusion on the matter of Torygg’s death and was naturally determined to make it to be in his favour. He wasn’t here for his city then but for his voice. If the jarl of Whiterun called a meeting, joined by those who were leaning towards Ulfric’s side, the others would have to agree, and if the jarls saw Balgruuf siding with Ulfric he would have the high king’s throne within his reach.   
  
And there was nothing he could do but go along with the rebel’s plan. For now. There was nothing he could do but swallow his shame and endure the humilitation of being a captive within his own walls. Perturbed by the betrayal of his people.  
  
He maintained a calm facade as Ulfric sent him back to his chamber escorted by the guards. He couldn’t tell if they were Whiterun’s men or Stormcloaks under the helms. The chamber doors closed behind him and he was left alone. The jarl laid upon his bed but could not sleep. 

Balgruuf rubbed his temple and sighed. The nearer the dawn crept the darker things seemed. He spent most of the time pacing around or lying on his bed restlessly. By breakfast time he was  so tired that he could have just closed his eyes and fall asleep right where he was.   
  
The jarl was eager to see what Vignar Gray-Mane had to say for himself, but before he could get to that he’d have to endure the pleasure of having breakfast with Ulfric. He was greeted by the sight of the annoyingly smug looking man as he entered the dining room.       
  
   "Good morning Balgruuf! You look… horrible.”   
   "I doubt anyone will notice as long as I stand next to you.“ Balgruuf replied with a flash of a pleasant smile as he seated himself, then choosing to angrily nibble on a piece of bread.   
   "Are you always this char-”  
   "Yes.“  
   ”… Right.“ Ulfric acknowledged. "Aren’t you going to eat more than that? Breakfast - the most important meal of the day.”  
   "Something has caused me to lose my apetite. Can we proceed with this ridiculous act now?“  
   "As you wish, my friend.” Ulfric said with a curious look in his eyes, earning himself nothing but a cold glare.       
  
   "Of course, now that your regular aides are away on an errand, you must still have someone to turn to. Let’s meet your temporary advisor shall we.“  
Balgruuf could very well guess who that might be. The doors of the jarl’s quarters opened to reveal Vignar Gray-Mane waiting in the war room.     
  
  "Brings me joy to see Whiterun under the protection of true nords, my jarl.” The old warrior bowed his head slightly, smiling knowingly.   
   "You people keep calling it 'protection’…“ Balgruuf muttered. The aged nord stroked his moustache and sighed.  
   "Sometimes a small nudge is needed to find the right direction…”  
  
A small nudge? Balgruuf raised his brow. More like a giant clubbing you on the head!  
   "Piss off, old man.“ he announced, storming off, leaving somewhat repentant looking Vignar and baffled Ulfric just standing there.  
   "Where do you think you’re going?” Ulfric managed to question.  
   "I am jarl Balgruuf the Greater of Whiterun. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got a city to keep, whelp.“ he declared in assertive tone as he strode towards the main hall.  
  
   "That’s our Balgruuf. Such a good lad.” stated Vignar and smiled as Ulfric looked at him skeptically. The two men quickly followed the jarl’s trail.     
  
   "Is he really always this…“ Ulfric searched for a word as they walked down the stairs.  
    "Charming? Oh no. He’s been on a congenial streak for a while now. That why I reckoned I’d dare to pull this off now. I’d act fast if I were you while he’s still this obliging.”   
  “You call  _that_  obliging?”  
  “This is Balgruuf of Whiterun we’re talking about here…” Vignar said in an amused tone.Ulfric grunted and glowered.   
  
This was going to be one hell of an occupation. He’d gotten to know Balgruuf briefly as a boy, when the elder had visited High Hrothgar. The jarl of Whiterun had a temper and while he worried about the reports of dragons in the skies he was more unnerved of having gotten himself stuck in one’s lair.  
    
  “ _Fantastic_ , indeed.” he muttered.


End file.
